


The Dreamwalker's Apprentice

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Trickster!Gabriel, witch in training, witch!Dean, witch!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 23:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean has visions of a strange man with jet black hair and bright blue eyes, and when he sees the shop from his dream, he explores, finding more than he could have ever hoped to find.





	1. Who the Hell is Cas?

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this story for a few months now, and I wanted to do it justice. It was just going to be a short story, but I couldn't help making it a sappy Destiel au. I hope it lives up to my expectations! I'm going for a mystery romcom vibe. So, basically Supernatural, right? Anyway, enjoy!

It's dark.  
  
Night.  
  
Not a cloud in the sky, the stars and waning moon illuminate the street. He can see his feet, but not where his feet are carrying him.  
  
He's running.  
  
"Cas!" He yells. Who the hell is Cas?  
  
"Dean?" Someone asks from the right. No, from above. That can't be right.  
  
_How do you know my name? Who are you? Where am I?_ All perfectly valid questions.  
  
And yet all he screams is "Cas?" into the darkening street. The stars are fading, the moon is slipping, he's slipping.  
  
"Dean." He sees him. Cas.  
  
He stands in front of a shop. 'Novak Books and Fortunes' it says in bright gold-edged wood above the window. Inside, it's dark, but the darkness is a force, a mass, swirling viciously around the shop.  
  
Like it's searching. What does it want? Can darkness want?  
  
"Cas!" He breaths. Where did Cas go?  
  
He looks up. The darkness has Cas. It has him. He has to save him. He has to.  
  
"Dean, wake up. Wake up, Dean!"  
  
"No, Cas, I'll save you! Hold on!"  
  
"Wake up, Dean, you'll be late." The voice changes.

* * *

Dean startles awake. Where is he? Damn, his head hurts.  
  
"Who's Cas? A girl? Never mind, you told me to wake you up at 7, so here I am. I'm off to school!" Sam. Of course.  
  
Dean sits up and slings his legs to the side of the bed. They feel like they're made of jelly, or cement; jelly cement?  
  
"Wa... Wait." Dean tries. His mouth is dusty, like a disgusting combination of sawdust and sand.  
  
"It's okay, Dean, Jess is giving me a ride to class. Can you pick me up after work? At the library at 5? You know what, I'll text you. We can grab burgers or something at Ellen's," Sam yells from the doorway. With that, Sam is ducking out of his room, and if the loud pounding from the hallway stairs is any indication, Sam is already gone.  
  
Man, he feels hungover. He hasn't been this hungover... well, ever. He doesn't remember a damn thing, just a fuzzy memory of a dream. Did he black out? _B_ _etter not to dwell on these things,_ Dean thinks to himself as he stumbles into the bathroom.  
  
He hums a little Zep to himself as he brushes the sandy feeling from his mouth, and he's full on singing into his shampoo bottle by the time he's hopped into the shower. He's glad Sammy left early today; it's not like he's shy about his singing, but he could live without the mocking of his tone deafness.  
  
He's hard of hearing, so it's not his fault. He's not deaf by any means, and he knows he could have it worse. But Sammy had to shout at him this morning, and that didn't help his headache any. He pops a couple of Advil before shrugging on his work clothes. Or, what passes for work clothes for Dean Winchester. A clean, solid print flannel and a pair of dark jeans later and he's on his way to the kitchen. He has ten minutes to make some food for the road before he's off to... where was it again? Cupid's Bow?  
  
God, Dean hates these part time gigs. But John hadn't exactly left him and Sam a big inheritance when he bit it. In fact, he'd hardly made it until Dean was 18 and could take care of Sam.  
  
It's not like Dean hates the guy. In fact, he's grateful for everything to man taught him. That is, when he wasn't passed out on the couch with a bottle. As awful as it sounded, it's easier without him. They can move on with their lives.  
  
_And that's what we're doing_ , Dean thinks to himself as he nukes the eggs Sam made for him in the microwave. The kid has a scholarship at the local university. It isn't the best, but they want to save up so Sam can go to law school at Stanford. So here Dean is, working three part time gigs, none of which pay very well individually, to help them get by. And he is happy to do it.  
  
Dean's a mechanic at Bobby's shop on the weekends and a barista at the local Starbucks (the manager was literally the king of hell), and now he scored a gig at a little bakery across town. Bobby offered Dean more hours, and Dean would take him up on it. He would. But...

He sits in the impala, quickly cooling eggs beside him. He leans his head down against the steering wheel as his thoughts catch up with him. Bobby said it was okay, that he understands. But Dean knows it's stupid. His dad is dead. It's not like he's seeing ghosts, but he swears, everytime he walks into the shop, he can feel the presence of his old man. Can hear him taunting him, telling him to do better, to always look after Sammy...  
  
Look after Sammy. That's something he can do. Sammy is always priority number one. And nothing can change that.


	2. Enter the Trickster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe and Cas have a little chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how long this fic will be, but I'm hoping very long! With lots of adventures (and fluff) in the future!

"What up, my man?" Gabriel asks. He's lying on the couch, signature lollipop in hand.  
  
Cas is sitting stiffly in his chair. He still doesn't understand Gabriel's posturing. There isn't anyone else here. Still, Cas answers the question. "I am well, Gabriel. As I always am. As I always will be."  
  
Gabriel gives him a little frown. "Dude, chill a little, will ya?" Cas knows he's just joking around, but Cas isn't in the mood.  
  
"What was wrong with the last batch? I couldn't get a good signal, it was like he didn't even remember me." Cas anxiously pulls at the knot of his tie. Frustrated, he touches it and it renders itself correctly tied.  
  
Gabriel responds in his usual way: ignoring Cas in favor of getting up to find candy. "It was probably Crowley again. I don't know why you trust him, he always seemed shady to me."  
  
"Crowley is an old friend." Cas wearily explains. He and Gabriel are both tired of this argument. "If you would just -"  
  
"Cassie, my man, relax. I hired him like you asked so I can keep a proper eye on him now. I need the help with my new shop anyway."  
  
"No, you need help dishing out revenge on people you don't like."  
  
"I dish out _karma_ , thank you very much. And I happen to be very good at it. It's not my fault you can't keep a grip on the hot piece of man-cake you've caught this time."  
  
Cas makes to protest, but gives up, knowing that arguing with Gabe would be futile. He's known the man for over 100 years; he knows how that conversation would end. "The call ended before I could properly reach him. If I just had more time..."  
  
"Yes, yes, well, you can trust me to do it correctly."  
  
Cas pretends to deliberate on this fact for a moment, and Gabe punches him lightly from where he is now perching on the back of the sofa. Gabe falls back dramatically onto the couch and sighs loudly. "But you don't deny that he's hot?"  
  
Cas punches him this time, and even though Gabe gives him a playful scowl, he is glad to see this side of Cas. Even as he fades, he was so himself, so unapologetically himself. That's what attracted Gabe to Cas, initially. What led him to finding the bookstore. He isn't Cas' usually type (magically, not sexually, he shudders even thinking it), but he was so adamant about learning from the master himself that Cas gave in fairly quickly.  
  
And here he is. Helping Cas find the third man in as many decades because _this one feels right._ So had the others, Balthazar and Inias, and the many that had come before. But Gabe could also feel something about this man; he's special.  
  
And Cas will make him a god.


	3. Welcome to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel only seems slightly suspicious. But he's harmless, right?

“Welcome to hell, what’s your poison?”

“Try again, Squirrel.” Crowley growls from behind him.

“Sorry. Ahem, welcome to _Starbucks_ , what can I get you today?” Dean sighs. It wasn’t as if Meg, a regular, would care what he says. She orders her usual - coffee, black and scalding - and goes on her way. Dean sighs again, louder, gaining a glare from Crowley.

If he keeps this up, he knows Crowley will throw him out on his ass without a thought. But Dean needs this job, so he puts on his best smile and greets the next customer. This goes on for the next three hours without break, since Ruby decided not to come into work today, leaving him to work the busiest shift of the day with only Garth to help. And Garth isn't that much help. Dean can't understand why the guy is so damn _cheerful_  all the time, greeting every customer like his best friend. It's annoying.

The rush finally over, Dean collects his meager tips and clocks out. He worked 15 minutes after his shift ended, but he doesn't expect any overtime. He rushes out the back door to the small employee parking lot.

He shakes off the feeling of uneasiness as he sits in his Baby. Her purr comforts him like the cats he can never pet (damn allergies), and he reminds himself of what - who - he's doing this for. _Sammy. This is all for Sammy._

Dean pulls out of the parking lot and drives to his next part time job. He hopes that Cupid’s Bow will work out better than Starbucks. Maybe he’ll get enough hours there to quit his job in hell. It's only his second day, though, so it's too early to tell.

The new bakery and cafe had yet to even open. He was hired early by the owner, Gabriel Shurley, to help set up the shop, which still had a ways to go before it opened the following week. It was the owner’s third cafe in the area, but he still insisted on overseeing the progress himself. The man seems nice enough, but anyone is nice compared to Crowley, who rules over his Starbucks as if it were his kingdom and his employees his minions.

Working late ate into his break time between jobs, so he arrives at Cupid’s Bow starving and tired. Gabriel has at least a dozen more boxes in the back for him to unload, and Dean groans at the prospect.

Three boxes in, Dean leans against the front counter, wiping his brow with his shirt. It was April, but he could feel summer start to creep in with the first of many more hot days to come. Dean looks around to see if any of the smoothie machines were set up yet, but no such luck. They were set to open by Monday, but it was Friday and they aren't nearly ready. He isn't scheduled to work weekends, since he'll be at the garage, but maybe he should offer to come in? Before Dean can set off to look for Gabriel, the man himself finds him instead, snapping his fingers in front of Dean. He hates it when people do that.

“Hey, I’ve been calling you for five minutes. I was right here, did you not hear me?” Gabriel asks slowly. He waits patiently for a response.

“Uh, sorry, Mr. Shurley. I’m hard of hearing, so I have a hard time hearing people if they aren’t right in front of me, or don’t speak up. If that won’t be a problem, sir.” Dean quickly explains. Crowley had simply shrugged and proceeded to shout loudly at Dean at every opportunity, and Bobby yells anyway to be heard in the shop. What if Gabriel fires him? He’d be fine, but he wants this job to work out...

“What? Oh, that’s fine, of course. That won't be a problem.” Gabe seems lost in thought for a moment.

When Gabe doesn't continue, Dean rushes ahead. “I can still work, but I can look into getting a hearing aid if it’s going to be a problem, Mr. Shurley, I’ve been meaning to get one anyway.” Not that he could afford it, but Gabriel doesn't need to know that.

“No, no, it won’t be a problem, Dean. If you work the register, maybe we’ll put up a sign asking people to speak up. And please, call me Gabe. Mr. Shurley sounds like an old man.” Gabe winks at Dean and wanders off, then quickly jogs back. “Oh, there was something I wanted to ask you.” Gabe looks at Dean with a scrutinous eye.

“Uhh, sure, what’s up?” Dean asks, Gabe still looking at him funny.

Gabe stops sizing him up, then sighs. “Did you eat today?”

Dean was not expecting that. “Uh, I didn’t get a chance, I was going to eat when I get home, it’s no problem.” He doesn't know why he's saying all this.

“Nonsense, nonsense, I just made a new batch of cookies and I’d like you to try some.” Gabe wanders to the back where the kitchen was, beckoning Dean to follow. “Well, come on.”

Gabe reminds him more of an aging grandmother than a young entrepreneur. But the man gives off a somewhat dangerous vibe, so Dean is cautious. It isn't as if he expects Gabe to poison him, exactly... but Dean is the only one working today, so it is a bit strange for him to be offering him some food.

Still, Gabe is persistent, and Dean agreed that the oatmeal and pumpkin cookies is very good, if somewhat out of season. Gabe offers Dean a smoothie he’s invented, with raspberry and chocolate truffles. It sounds expensive, but Gabe insists, and Dean almost moans at how good it tastes.

Dean had felt tired, but he is feeling positively perky after eating the food. He helps Gave move all the rest of the boxes out to the front, and sets out to unpack them all. Some contain decorations to go on the wall, and the largest reveal funky but comfortable furniture. By the time all the boxes are unpacked, Dean’s shift is over. It's getting late, and he has to pick up Sam from the library again so they could go grocery shopping. But he makes the mistake of lying on one of the large couches, _just for a minute_ , and there Gabe finds him ten minutes later.

“Dude, where did you get this couch?” Dean asks as he sits up and checks his texts. Sam has texted saying he can pick up the groceries by himself, and that Jess will give him a ride. _I’m sure she will,_ Dean smirks to himself.

“Thanks for all the hard work today, Dean, but your shift is over.” Gabe smiles at Dean as he rises from the couch with a yawn and a stretch. “I got the couch at a flea market, but shh, don’t tell anyone!” Gabe whispers conspiratorially.

Dean pats his pockets to ensure he has his keys and wallet, and waves goodbye to Gabe. “Oh, wait a minute, man. Do you need me to come in this weekend to finish setting up?”

Gabe waves him off. “Thanks, but no thanks, Dean. I’ve got it all under control here.” The shop did look better, thanks to Dean’s hard work.

With that Dean leaves, taking Baby straight home. Usually he’d hit up the roadhouse or the bar with Benny, but he suddenly feels so _tired._

He barely makes it through the door of his bedroom before he falls into bed and promptly falls asleep.

* * *

“Hello, Dean.”


	4. Dreamwalker

Dean doesn't know where he was. Is he home? It's dark, but as he looks around, his surroundings come into focus.

He's in a bookshop. A man sits on a chair that faces him, where he sits on a couch, not unlike the one in Gabe’s shop. It looks similar to the kind of setup in a therapist’s office, not that he knows what they look like.

The man looks at him expectantly.

“Who are you?”

The man sighs and gives him a sad look. “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” The man doesn't smile, schooling his face in an expression he can't place. Constipation?

“Yeah, okay, what are you?” Dean has had enough of this. He needs to get out of here, wherever here is. He stands up and makes to leave.

“Dean, wait, I can explain.” The man places a hand on Dean’s thigh, and Dean finds himself sitting down, as if he has no control of his own body.

The man looks at him thoughtfully, but Dean gives him a ‘so, what?’ look. The man sighs again and introduces himself. “I am Castiel. I am a Dreamwalker, the last of my kind.”

“What are you, some kind of wizard? You know what, I don't care. I don’t have time for this, for getting _kidnapped._ Let me leave, _now._ ” Dean is starting to panic.

“Dean, you are in no danger here. Do you not recognize this place? I have been contacting you for weeks, but the connection was poor. I blame Crowley for that.” Castiel looks apologetic, as if that were a normal thing to be apologetic about.

“You know Crowley? How?” Dean demands.

“He has been helping me contact you, through my elixir. He placed it in your drinks, but it wasn’t until Gabe saw you today that he could get the right proportions-”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on just a second. You’ve been _drugging_ me? I knew that son of a bitch was sketchy -”

Castiel interrupts Dean by snapping his fingers, and Dean’s lips flap, but no sound comes out. _What the fuck,_  Dean tries to say. Castiel gets the message.

“If you would just let me explain, we don’t have much time.” Castiel starts, laying a hand on Dean’s knee and leaning in close. “This is a dream.”

Dean looks around with a start. It makes a little more sense now: the fuzzy edges of the room weren’t from a drug induced haze after all. It also explains how the strange guy knows his name. He decides to go along with this craziness, hoping he'll wake up soon enough.

Castiel continues. “I am a Dreamwalker. I can walk inside your dreams, if you are given the correct elixir, in the correct amounts.”

Dean makes to talk, then gives Castiel a bitch face to rival Sammy's. Castiel sighs and releases Dean from his hold. “Don’t _do_ that. So, this is a dream, huh? Then, where am _I_?” Dean asks, as if to challenge the man's crazy story.

“I assume you’re still in your bed, unless you sleepwalk. Do you sleepwalk?” The man looks genuinely worried for Dean.

“No, dude. I don’t.”

“That is good.”

Dean looks around. It's just the two of them. It isn’t quiet, but it isn’t noisy: there's no background noises of any kind, just the ambient sound of dreams. Castiel stares at him expectantly, as if he's waiting for Dean, so he throws up his hands in exasperation.

“Okay, well, where are _you_ , then? Are you sleeping somewhere out in the real world, like a dream vampire?” Dean asks. _D_ _ream-pire,_ Dean manages to keep to himself.

Castiel grimaces. “That is not of import. We have much to do. First, I must ask you a few questions. See if you are suitable for the job.”

“Woah, slow your roll there, buddy. I’m not here for any job interview. I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” Dean gives the shop another furtive glance. As he looks, the books seem to fade away, leaving rows and rows of colorful bottles and flasks in their place.

Castiel furrows his eyes. “Are you Dean Winchester, son of John Winchester and Mary Campbell?”

“Yes. Wait, how the hell did you know that?”

“Gabriel says he learned it from something called Google. It sounded like a very powerful and wise creature, it knew many things about you and your brother, Samuel.”

“Stay away from Sammy!” Dean ignored the many other red flags this guy was flying, focusing on what he always did. Protecting Sammy.

“I have no plans on hurting him. I only meant to thoroughly research you before I attempted to take you on as my apprentice.”

“Your... your what?”

“My apprentice. Dean, that’s why you are here. I’m looking for a successor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment with constructive criticism (and pointing out typos)! I'd love to hear from you wonderful readers. I'm hoping to make this fic nice and long, but I also want to make it readable...


	5. This is crazy

Dean wakes with a start. He scrambles around his bed for his phone, finding he still has his black jeans on from last night.

He pushes the button, but his phone is out of juice. He practically flings himself across his bed to the other side where his cord hangs out of the outlet, plugging the phone in.

“Come on, come on, come on.” He chants. Finally the phone has enough charge to turn on, and he sighs with relief.

It's only 6 am. He doesn't have work at the garage until 9 today, so he lays back in bed and sighs. But something eats at the edge of his consciousness.

The dream. Right. It felt so real at the time, more like a memory than any dream he’s had before, but as he sits there he feels it fading away. It slips from his grasp even as he sits trying to catch it. Scoffing, because _of course_ he forgets the dream with a hot dude.

Wait a minute.

Suddenly, images flood his mind. _Castiel_. His name is Castiel. He's met him before, on several occasions, always in dreams. But last night was the most vivid. And he remembers it all.

Dean sits up with a start. He narrows his eyes, trying to remember any detail about the man and the dreams. Frustrated, he gets up to make coffee. It doesn't look like he'll be going back to sleep.

One cup of coffee later, Dean sits at the small kitchen table with his laptop. As he waits for the ancient machine to boot up, he glances around the small apartment. The dishes need to be done. At least Sam bought groceries, though that means rabbit food for the next week. Sighing, he makes himself some eggs. He does his best to pretend not to notice the clothes strewn across the living room, leading a trial to Sam's bedroom. Smiling to himself, he sets aside some blueberries for making pancakes later.

By the time his computer has opened up Google (which triggers a rather endearing memory of the Hot Guy Castiel), he hears Sammy stagger awake. He may be practically deaf, but nobody could miss the thundering steps of a moose like Sammy waking up. He gives up on his computer and has pancakes on the table by 7. Jess wanders in to discover Dean with a grin on his face and a puddle of syrup on his plate.

“Good morning, Dean.” Jess yawns and loots the fridge for orange juice. She poured three glasses and takes them to the table, an easy smile on her face. Sam wanders in next, grinning at Jess standing in only his humongous flannel, leaning over to give Jess a quick kiss. Dean gives him the double eyebrows of ‘nice job! She's way too good for you’ and Sam shoots back the bitchface of ‘mess this up for me and I end you.’ Reaching a peaceful nonverbal agreement they settle down for breakfast.

“Dean, I thought you don’t have work until 9?” Sam asks with his mouth full of blueberry pancake.

“I don’t, just couldn’t sleep.” Dean said, hides behind his laptop.

Sam looks around the apartment, as if looking for evidence that Dean had someone over. “You okay, man? You’ve been stretching yourself pretty thin these days, with that new job-”

“What? No, I’m fine. I’m fine! I just did a lot of heavy lifting at Gabe’s last night.” Dean protests.

“I bet you did.” Sam says as he grabs his own laptop and boots it up.

“Hey, now, Gabe is my _boss_ , and I did in fact carry quite a few boxes yesterday.” Dean knows he's overcompensating, but he can’t stop himself.

Sam just smirks, muttering, “Whatever you say, Dean.” He turns back to reading his email, casually throwing an arm over the back of Jess’ chair. She rewards him with a palm-full of whipped cream, which shuts him up for the remainder of breakfast.

“Hey, Jess, do you know anything about dreams? Like, what they mean, or whatever?” Dean brings up the subject as casually as he can manage.

“Oh, yeah, my mom is obsessed with that stuff. Why do you ask?” Jess leans on her hands, elbows on the table. Uh oh, she's really invested in this.

“Uh, no reason in particular. It’s just, I’ve had these weird-ass dreams lately...”

“Spit it out, Dean! We’re all waiting in suspense here!” Jess says, fake-annoyed. Sam huffs at that, but glances up from his laptop.

“Well, uh, it feels oddly real, like no dream I’ve had before. There's this guy-”

“A-ha!” Jess exclaims, as if she had discovered some secret. Sam just rolls his eyes and goes back to his laptop.

“What? No! Not like, like _that._ We just talk, he's some kind of wizard or something...” Dean trails off, trying to remember.

“Maybe your subconscious is trying to give you ideas for your next LARP with Charlie.” Sam quips from behind his screen.

Jess laughs, but has a thoughtful look on her face. "Well, maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you a less literal message, like a wizard means you dream of having more power over your own life. O-or, you just dreamed of a hot guy because -"

“You know what, never mind. Nice seeing you, as always, Jess.” Dean winks. “Try and keep it in your pants while I’m home, Sasquatch.” Sam throws a blueberry at him as he takes his laptop back to his own room.

“Ah, peace and quiet.” Dean mutters to himself. It isn't like he hates Sam’s company, or Jess’ for that matter, he just wants to keep this to himself. He doesn’t know what came over him, sharing this with them. It feels personal, almost intimate. Maybe he just wants to make sure he isn't crazy, that he didn't made it up. But aren't all dreams just that, made up?

Dean doesn't know. He spends the next hour researching dream signs before giving up and heading to the garage early. Bobby greets him with his usual gruff “hmmf” and points to one of the cars in the garage. He spends the day under some ancient Chevy truck that has definitely seen better days. He hates when people don't take care of their cars. He would never let his Baby get this badly in disrepair, let along a single scratch.

He takes a break for lunch and decides to check out how Gabe was doing, and, if he's being honest, to see if he could maybe score another smoothie. But when he gets to the shop, it's dark, and a makeshift sign on the door says “closed.” He peaks through the window, but doesn't see Gabe or any other employees.

As he stands on the sidewalk, deciding whether or not to knock on the employee-only door out back, he has a flash of memory. Or, a flash of dream.

Castiel knows of Gabriel. But he knew Crowley too, so he assumes it was just his brain cheating and using people he already knows in his dreams. Deciding it isn’t worth it, Dean wanders down the sidewalk. He still has 30 minutes of break before he should get back to Bobby’s, and he doesn't usually see this part of town. He's already here, so why not check it out?

It's a little more run down that other parts of town that he frequents. The university is surrounded by hipster coffee shops and small businesses with colorful store fronts. Bobby’s shop is in a more industrial side of town, and Dean and Sam’s apartment is near Ellen’s and other restaurants. This side of town seems dark, with a lot of scraggly trees providing shade from the sun, and most of the shops standing empty. Some of the windows have bullet holes or tarp covering the jagged edges of broken glass.

 _So, not the prettiest location ever,_ Dean thinks. He wonders why Gabe had chosen here to open Cupid’s Bow, and not closer to the university. Maybe it's part of a program to improve this part of the city. If so, Dean's not complaining. He just hopes Gabe’s shop won't be subjected to any damage or vandalizing. Or maybe Gabe’s cafe is a front for something more sinister than coffee and croissants?

Dean keeps walking, wandering deeper into the edge of town he will never let Sam visit. He feels a pull on him, like he remembers something and is trying to find it again. But he’s never been here before. In all his years living in the area, he has never been on this street, or anywhere nearby. So how can remember it?

He stops to look around at the next intersection. Then he sees it.

Novak Books and Fortunes.

It's real.

Suddenly, memories come back to him, conversations with Castiel, the same one over and over again. He's had that dream before, the one from last night.

 _The Dreamwalker,_ Dean remembers suddenly. _He controls my dreams with some elixir or something._

Dean stares at the sign above the window, as if it'll tell him any new information. It doesn't. The storefront is dark, too dark to see inside from this far away.

 _Or, more likely, I’m completely crazy,_ Dean thinks. _I have to get out of here._

Dean turns tail and practically runs back to Baby, heaving a heavy sigh once he's safe inside. He still has 10 minutes to get lunch.

 _If this keeps happening, I’m going to need to get some help._ He thinks, resigned. He tries his best to keep his mind on other things as he orders a burger at a joint near the garage. He'll have to eat it in the shop, which Bobby doesn't approve of. Bobby lets him off early, saying his mind is elsewhere and not where it should be: in the shop fixing cars. He tells Dean not to come back until he’s screwed his head on straight.

He needs to figure this out. And fast.


	6. Castiel, Angel of the Lord

A flash of white burns across his vision. An angel blade.

Cas ducks back to avoid it, bumping back against the wall. He's trapped.

His opponent had his hood up, his face shaded. "I've got you now, Castiel." He growls.

 _Metatron_. Castiel recognizes the other angel. He panics, looking around for his own angel blade. It's laying on the ground behind Metatron, who still stands in front of Castiel, in the middle of his villain's soliloquy.

Castiel gasps and looks over the angel's shoulder. Metatron turns to look at what Castiel saw, finding nothing but a fog rolling into the alley. But it was enough of a distraction to allow Castiel to shove the angel on the ground, giving him the upper hand. In one fell swoop, he grabs his angel blade and stabs the angel in the heart.

"That's what you get for stealing my grace, Assbut."

As he kneels in the dirty alley, the fog enveloping him. He allows it to carry him away, the world fading around him.

* * *

When he opens his eyes, he's greeted by slow claps. He turns to find Gabriel, a smirk on his face.

"What?" Castiel asks, turning to hide his blush.

"You spend a lot of time in that world of yours, Castiel. It's not good for you." Gabriel's an ass, but an ass who cares about Castiel and his mental health. Or what can pass for mental health.

"Metatron was getting out of hand. I would have let the dream unfold, but he had to be stopped." Castiel says, still out of breath. It always jars him to come back from that universe, even after doing it so many times.

"You say that like Metatron is real. Like you didn't make him up to be a complete douche." Gabe quirks his eyebrows.

"Whatever. Why are you here, Gabe? Have you heard more from Dean? I haven't seen him since last night." Cas sighs. He's getting tired of introducing himself so many times.

"He came to visit the shop." Cas raises his eyebrows at this. "But turned tail and ran when he saw the sign."

"Did he see you? What if he'd seen you, Gabe?" Cas worries his lip in a completely dignified way.

"Dude, what am I always telling you? Chill!" Gabe huffs. Cas is lucky he was cute. And all powerful. Whatever.

"This didn't happen with Balthazar or Inias. Or any of the others. Why is this happening with Dean?" Cas is frankly tired of this game of chase.

Gabe doesn't know, but he does his best to comfort his friend. "Well, magic doesn't really have a place in his world. His brother wants to be a lawyer, his whole world revolves around logic. I wouldn't be surprised if he thinks he's going crazy." 

"But you'll keep an eye on him, won't you?"

"Of course. Anything for you, Cassie."

And with that Gabe is gone, and Castiel was left alone. Again.

He sighs at the quiet, then snaps his fingers to start some classical music. Debussy filled the room.

Now all he has to do... is wait.

* * *

Sunday came and went, Dean spending a few hours at Bobby's working on the truck. By six o'clock, Dean is exhausted and stressed. Stressed, because he can't control his thoughts.

 _It's real. What else is real?_ He thinks, over and over. His head is still spinning when he arrives home with the takeout he's ordered for him and Sam.

And  _Jess_ , if the smurfs shirt on the floor is any indication.

He stomps up to Sam's door, announcing that pizza is here, laughing when Sam tells him to  _go away already._ He enjoys a slice in the kitchen while he boots up his laptop. For once he is glad to be practically deaf.

 _Okay, now for some intense Googling,_ Dean sighs. With some pizza and beer on his right and his laptop on his left, he cracks his knuckles dramatically.  _I can do this._

It doesn't take him long to find Novak Books and Fortunes on Google Maps. It's right where it was before,  _not that it could have moved._ He shakes his head. With everything that's happened lately, he wouldn't be surprised in the least.

The shop doesn't have a website, but he finds several articles, the most recent of which is from the previous year. The shop's claim to fame (if it could be said to even have one) was its mystery and intrigue. The shopkeeper was reported to keep odd hours, and when it is open, is operated by a cranky old woman. Another article claims it's run by a bored teenager, and another says they were greeted by a beautiful woman. It all seems contradictory. 

Some visitors wrote of a magical experience, and claim to have seen true magic. If the comments on the post are any indication, other visitors don't agree. "It's just a crappy old bookshop." One stranger wrote on Yelp. "I've been going there for years for my elixirs! Castiel works wonders!" A woman, Rowena, had posted. 5 stars.

 _Wait just a darn second,_ Dean scrolls back up to the review.  _Castiel?_ The whole situation just isn't adding up, so he determines to do some more research, and maybe visit the shop to do some recon.

Buckling down to do some more work, Dean can't help but feel a little excitement. What if there really is magic? He's seen it before, or at least he swears by it. A family friend, Pamela Barnes, can see the future sometimes. Maybe Castiel is the real deal too? But then... why him?

That was the kicker, right? He's alright with accepting the possibility of magic, but not the possibility of someone choosing him? His self-worth is shit, as evidenced by his many shitty jobs. He tells himself he's doing everything for Sammy, but if he chose to, he could have gone to college. He could have chosen a career. He's always wanted to be a firefighter, and he still could. He could do good in the world. _But first, I need to make sure Sammy gets through college alright._ Dean reminds himself as he closes his laptop for the night.  _Then... then I don't know. We'll figure it out._

And he would figure it out. It just won't end up quite how he expected.


	7. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean finally meet. For real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a real storyline for this fic, so it'll take me longer to write. In the meantime, enjoy a nice long chapter!

Dean wakes with a start. _Owwww_ , he moans as he rubs his head. He has yet another killer hangover. He didn't dream the night before, but the headache reminds him of the reason for his late-night drinking. He can't keep what is real straight in his mind, so he'd decided to drink until he forgot about dreams and magic.

He definitely regrets that decision now. It's 7 am and he'll be late for work at Cupid’s Bow if he doesn't get up _right now._ Groaning again, Dean makes his way to the bathroom. _You look like shit, man,_ he tells his reflection. He cleans up the best he can, yelling to Sammy that he's leaving in case he's still around, and locks the door of the apartment behind him.

On the way to work, he cranks up his music to keep himself awake. He still feels like shit, but he can't skip out on work today. It's the grand opening of the shop, and Gabe had stressed the importance of his attendance on multiple occasions.

Sighing, he locks up the Impala in the parking lot behind the cafe, and makes his way in through the back door. He's greeted by a grinning Gabe, who quickly shoves a cup and a muffin at him.

“Try these! I’m giving them out as samples to the customers, and I want to know if they’re good enough. Everything tastes good to me as long as it has sugar in it, so I need an unbiased opinion,” Gabe cheerfully rambles.

Dean hasn't even made it through the door, so he closes it behind him and sets the food and drink down on a table. He removes his jacket and puts on the awful apron Gabe makes him wear, and finally takes a sip of the drink. He hums his approval, and bites off the top of the muffin. It's delicious. “Gabe, this is awesome! What’s even in this?”

“Cocaine.” Gabe answers with a straight face.

 _Pfffff- “What?”_ Dean exclaims, spitting the offending pastry into a napkin.

Gabe laughs. “Just yanking your chain there, Dean-o. There is no secret ingredient, I’m just that good.”

With a nervous laugh, Dean takes another nibble of the muffin, which is in fact amazing. He takes another, longer drink from the cup, deciding it's like a cross between apple cider and a milk shake. An interesting choice for breakfast, but as he drinks, his headache subsides and his aching muscles relax. Feeling more alive than he has all weekend, he follows Gabe to the front of the store.

“Gabe, this isn’t ready to open at all!” Dean exclaims with surprise. He’s assumed Gabe would have someone else help him set up, but the café is still a mess, with boxes everywhere, and no clear path to the door. They were supposed to open in two hours, but even the “open” sign isn't up yet and is just propped up next to the door.

“You worry too much, Dean-o. Leave it to the professionals. Now, go make some more of that apple-drink. The recipe is in the back.” Gabe points back to the kitchen behind the counter.

“Dude, ‘apple-drink?’” Dean queries, eyebrow quirked up.

“I’m good at making the drinks, not naming them. Now get.” Gabe shoos Dean away.

He finally shuffles to the back, and finds the piece of paper that is indeed labeled 'apple-drink.' What he doesn't notice is the rack of vials and colorful bottles that are peaking out from the top shelves. He busies himself by mixing the drink, searching the kitchen for the right ingredients, most of which Gabe left out on the counter. He finishes quickly, and lets the results of his labors warm up on the burner.

Satisfied with his work (it isn’t quite as good as Gabe’s, but it's still pretty damn good), he looks around for something else to do. He finds a to-do list on the counter, and starts checking things off. Most of it is washing and sweeping, and he puts some of the pastries on a tray to take out into the cafe.

Once he gets to the bottom of the list, which he is starting to think he isn't supposed to have, he squints at the last item. _Set aside a donut for Castiel. He needs some sweets._

“Castiel?” Dean whispers to himself, then looks around to make sure Gabe isn’t around to see him snooping. He still hasn’t met any other employees, and his duties don't seem to reach beyond the mixing drinks and putting out pre-made sweets. Who is in charge of baking the pastries? Will he be in charge of the cash register all the time? Surely Gabriel wouldn’t be working day to day, seeing as he owns other businesses that need attention. The whole thing seems fishy to him. Well, no harm in asking Gabe what's up.

“Hey, Gabe? Who’s Castiel?” Dean hollers ahead of him as he wanders into the café carrying the tray of muffins he’s cut up for samples. He almost drops it when he sees Gabe.

Gabe turns abruptly around, snapping his fingers, but the damage is done. Dean has seen, well, _everything_. But what exactly did he see? It looked like a black light was being shone all over the store, illuminating hidden symbols on the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Gabe holds a paintbrush that had glowed, but is now suddenly clean.

Dean halts to a stop, setting the try on a table. He doesn't know what to say, where to even start. But this is too sketchy for his comfort. He draws the line at crazy occult symbols written everywhere. But when he turns to run the hell out of there, something in the corner of his eye stops him.

A broom is busy sweeping away at the mess on the floor, piling it up next to a trash can. That would be fine – if there was a person attached to said broom. Instead, it's moving of its own volition, pairing with a dustpan to deposit the waste into the trash bin.

“Okay, I’m just gonna… go…” Dean speaks quietly, his mind searching for an explanation.

“Wait, Dean-“ Gabe shouts, “Watch out!”

It's too late, Dean is already tripping over a piece of furniture that juts out in the way. On the way down, he swears he hears Gabe yelling at the broom, _now look what you’ve done, couldn’t have cleaned the kitchen earlier like I asked._

But that would be crazy.

* * *

When Dean wakes up, he doesn’t know where he is. Hell, he couldn’t tell you the date, or who's currently boning who on Doctor Sexy, MD, which is definitely a bad sign.

Another bad sign is Castiel.

At this point, Dean is able to suspend his disbelief long enough to get a good look at the guy.

“Hello, Dean.” He speaks calmly. His black hair sticks up everywhere, a little messier than the last time he saw him. Maybe he's dreaming again?

“Howdy, Cas.” Dean replies, looking around at his surroundings. He's in the bookshop. “Did you kidnap me?” He's only half joking.

“No, Dean-o. We just… relocated you for the moment.” Suddenly Gabe pops out of thin air next to Dean on the therapist couch. Dean practically shoots into the air, but Cas doesn't flinch from his seat in the arm chair.

“Hello, Gabriel. It’s good to see you.” Cas greets Gabe seriously.

“Dude, it’s been less than 12 hours since I saw you.” Gabe rolls his eyes.

“My apologies. You know how hard it is for me to keep track of time,” Cas apologizes.

“No worries, man. It’s good to see you, too.” Gabe replies, which seems to end their strange conversation.

Dean looks back and forth between the two men, one he knows in life and the other in dreams. After a quiet moment, he snaps, shouting, “Okay! Who wants to tell me what the actually hell is going on here?!”

“This is a dream, Dean.” Cas answers.

“Oh, thank you so much, _Castiel._ What kind of name even is that?” He says, mostly to himself. “And _you,_ Gabe, what the hell are you doing in my dream?”

Gabe shrugs. “I decided to tag along for the ride.”

“Oh okay, that sounds reasonable. _Not!”_ Dean mumbles, exasperated.

Cas looks at Dean curiously. “Dean, can you tell me what you remember of our previous… encounters?”

“Oh sure, let me just remember what I dreamed about last week, sounds easy.” Dean glares at Cas, who merely blinkes, keeping his face devoid of any emotion. “Okay… we talked. You… asked me to be your apprentice or something. You claimed to be some Dream-talker-“

“Dreamwalker.” Cas interrupts.

“Right. Same diff. And that’s about it. But… I feel like I’ve had that dream before. For a while now, actually. Since…”

“Since you were hired by Crowley at hell’s kitchen.” Cas supplies.

Gabe chuckles. “He means Starbucks. When you were hired at Starbucks.”

“You … ‘gripped me tight and raised me from perdition.’ Is that what you meant?” Dean asks, suddenly remembering more and more.

“Dude, you used that line on him? When has that ever worked for you?” Gabe laughs, but Cas ignores him.

“Yes, Dean, Crowley isn’t the best at keeping tabs on people. That is why Gabriel hired you: so I could get a better link to you. I trust Gabriel more than I do Crowley. But he is the best at finding new prospects, so I suppose I gotta keep him around.” Cas sighs.

“Alright. Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that by drugging me – damn, the apple-drink – you can waltz into my dreams. But then, how is Gabe here?” Dean asks, trying his best to remain calm in the face of the situation he's gotten himself into. “What was all that stuff Gabe was doing before I… fell on my ass?”

“You tripped and knocked your head pretty badly, Dean. So Gabe took you here to heal. He will be opening the store without you, not to worry.” Cas gives Gabe a pointed look.

Sighing dramatically, Gabe snaps his fingers, muttering something along the lines of _ungrateful bastard_ before disappearing into thin air like he appeared not five minute before.

Dean blinks, staring at the spot Gabe previously occupied. “Um…” He still hasn’t gotten any answers.

“Dean, I know this is a lot to take in at once. But I have your full attention now, and the connection is the clearest yet, so I will take advantage of this opportunity. Gabriel is a witch; well, more of a trickster, really. You already know that I am a Dreamwalker, but you may not know that it is a very rare type of witch.” Cas explains rapidly.

“No, Cas, I didn’t. I don’t know a damn thing about witches, unless Charlie is LARPing as one.” Dean chuckles to himself.

“You caught Gabriel at an inopportune moment. If you hadn’t already knocked yourself out, he would have brought you here anyway.”

“Here as in… your book shop?”

“Yes.”

Another silence steeps in the air. Castiel doesn't seem put off by it, but Dean is definitely uncomfortable.

“Give it to me straight man. Why am I really here?” Dean searches Cas’ bright blue eyes as if they hold the answers to all the universe's questions.

“I told you. I’m looking for an apprentice. Someone to teach my craft, to carry on my legacy.”

“Your… craft. Your little dream-hopping trick? You mean… I could do that, in someone else’s dream?”

“Yes, Dean, with practice you could become a very powerful witch. I can already tell that you are a natural witch. You need only to unlock that power.” Castiel stands for the first time. His movements are graceful, almost fluid as he walks to a bookshelf and plucks a vial from it.

He returns and selects two glasses from the middle of the coffee table Dean hadn't noticed before. He pours the liquid into the glasses, handing one to Dean. The liquid shone like ambrosia, glittering and sparkling. Cas motions for Dean to drink, knocking back the liquid in one fell swoop. Dean copies the motion (what else does he have to lose?), taking a long drink. It doesn't taste or feel like anything in particular, but he can feel something happening.

He blinks and the shop is gone. Cas is gone.

“Cas?” He shouts into the void. It's dark, foggy.

Suddenly the fog clears, and Cas is in front of him. But instead of wearing a comfortable sweater and loafers, he's wearing a trench coat and –

_Wings._


	8. Here Be Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas takes Dean to a far off land full of monsters that lurk in the shadows.

Wings unfurl from behind Cas - no, wait, from Cas himself. The midnight black feathers blend in with the night sky, only visible where they block out the stars. Dean gapes at them, but Cas quickly folds them behind him. He looks sheepish, almost embarrassed at having them out.

"Dude, what?" Is all Dean can manage.

Cas sighs and looks around him. He curses a quiet 'fuck,' which Dean should not find as hot as he does. "I apologize, we seem to have arrived where I left off." He pokes at something on the ground with his foot, barely hiding his disgust.

Dean almost jumps out of his own skin. "Is that a dead body?" He takes a look around him. They're standing in a dirty alley way, and he can hear sirens around him. Sure enough, a dead body lies on the ground. Giant black wings seem to be scorched into the ground surrounding the dead guy. Their resemblance to Cas' own wings does not go unnoticed by Dean.

The sirens get louder, and Cas huffs in annoyance. "We must leave this place. Come." He walks quickly out of the alleyway, turning right. Dean follows behind, hardly keeping up as Cas rushes down the sidewalk, trenchcoat billowing. Dean realizes he's wearing his Dad's old army jacket, which he knows for a fact is in his closet at home. He didn't even know it fits him.

They continue at this rapid pace for a long while until -

"Baby!" Dean rushes to the Impala. Cas rustles through his pockets and finds a ring of keys, tossing them to Dean. 

Running his hands along the front, Dean walks to the driver's side, opening the door. He doesn't recognize the other keys on the chain, but the square one opens the door, and he unlocks the passenger door for Cas. Everything seems to be in order, except for the machete that sits in the backseat. He pointedly ignores it, electing to turn on the car, already relaxed at the sound of her purr. He can hear a slight hiccup and sets himself a mental reminder to check on that when he gets home. Then he remembers; he has no idea where he is.

Castiel has settled into the passenger seat and pulled out his phone. He's typing rapidly into what looks like Google Maps, and soon a robotic-sounding voice is telling him to "turn right, then in 200 ft, turn left." 

He opens his mouth to ask Cas where the hell they were, but Cas shuts him up with a "just drive, Dean."

Rolling his eyes, he pulls out of where the car was parked on the curb, following the directions from Cas' phone. It's actually very peaceful. It's late at night, and once they hit the highway, the voice tells them to drive 20 miles before their exit.

Cas apparently decides this is a good enough time as any to actually give Dean some information. "I apologize Dean. That man back there, he was a bad man. I took care of him last night, but I forgot that's where I left off."

"So, where exactly are we?" Dean asks as calmly as he can muster. He tries to keep his eyes on the road, but Cas looks adorable in his rumpled coat and messed up hair. Even his eyes shine in the starlight that illuminates the road in front of them.

"We're in Kansas. We're headed to the Men of Letters bunker." Cas explains. He gives Dean a run down of the Men of Letters organization, hurrying to keep Dean from interrupting. "Gabriel gave you an elixir to transported you to me in your dream, and the elixir I gave you transported us to this world."

"And in this world... there are monsters?" Dean gulps, trying to not look as scared as he is.

"Yes. Vampires, werewolves, demons, angels, they're all real." Cas looks apologetic. "And you hunt them."

 _Well, isn't that just fine and dandy,_ Dean thinks. "Uh, you're gonna have to run that by me again there, Cas." He doesn't know when he started calling the other man 'Cas,' but it just seems to suit him.

"I created this world, and in it, you play an important role. The demons attempted to start the apocalypse, and you and Sam worked with me to stop it." Cas stares at Dean a little too long for his comfort.

"Uh huh. And the devil himself showed up to this party, I imagine?" Dean jokes.

"Yes, and you killed him, Dean." Cas responds seriously.

"Wait, really?"

"Yes, Dean. Unfortunately, Sam..." Cas looks away from Dean for the first time in ten minutes. "I'm sorry, Dean. He was Lucifer's vessel, and when you killed him, well, Sam couldn't be saved."

Dean blinks. He feels suddenly sad to hear of the loss of his brother, before he remembers that  _his_ Sammy was safe at home, probably snuggling on the couch with Jess. "Uh, no problem, man. It's not like I knew him." Dean turns his attention back to the road as he rolls up to a red light.

"But you will," Cas says quietly. He raises a hand to Dean's head, pressing two fingers to his forehead.

Suddenly, visions and memories that aren't his flood his mind. He sees his mom, then Jess, burning on the ceiling. He sees him and Sam in the Impala, driving down a road. Monsters, horrible creatures of all varieties, dying at his own hand. Hell, burning and agony, 40 years worth of pain. Meeting Cas in a barn, wings on full display, and his response: stabbing the bastard.  _Good going me,_ he thinks absurdly. But there's more.

Demons, angels, and everything in between, hunting them. Two years on the run from those who wished to use them. Sam giving in and saying yes to Lucifer, him saying yes to Michael. The final battle, which ended quickly with the aid of Gabriel and God himself.  _I met God?_ _And he's a scruffy middle-aged writer?_ Dean puzzles over the memories that overwhelm him. More recent memories hit him harder, of Cas in his fight with Metatron, and falling angels, and purgatory, and -

Just as quickly as the memories had raced through his mind, they retreat, and he only has a fuzzy grasp at any particular moment. But he is hit with a sudden and all-powerful grief for the loss of his brother, his mother, his father. He looks over at Cas and feels his heart skip a beat.

 _This Dean loves Cas._ He doesn't blame the guy, Cas is pretty adorable.

But he doesn't have a chance to dwell on any of these feeling, because the car behind him is beeping at him to go. The light is green. As he presses the accelerator, he feels Cas' gaze on him. Before he can ask Cas what the hell just happened, a dark fog suddenly appears on the road up ahead, slowly approaching. "Son of a bitch-" Dean starts, but then Cas is gone again. The inside of the Impala fades to black and he is alone. Again.

* * *

Dean wakes with a start, jolting up from where he was lying on the couch. Cas just looks expectantly at him from his seat, but offers a glass of water to Dean, which he gladly takes.

After a long gulp, Dean manages to speak up. "Um, what the hell was that?" He vaguely remembers the things Cas had zapped into his mind, but he no longer feels the pain or longing he had in the Impala.

"I took you to a world I've been building. I apologize, it's a bit of a mess at the moment. I just finished dealing with Metatron. Gabriel claims I created him to be an Assbutt on purpose, but I promise I had no idea he would act so... douchey." Cas gives Dean a weak smile, the first Dean's seen. "I would also like to apologize for the memory dump. I... I weaved you into the story so it would feel more real to you. I do regret what happened to Sam, but it couldn't be helped."

"Uh huh. Right. Well, this has been fun, but I've got to get back to work." Dean shakes his head. He's had weird dreams before, but this one takes the cake. The amount of dream-inception happening has his head spinning.

"Dean." Cas leans forward, keeping uncomfortable eye contact as he addresses him. "This may be a dream, but everything I have told you in true. I hope you will think over what I've said, and get back to me soon."

"Will do, man." Dean looks around. "Uh, how exactly do I leave?"

Cas gives him a second small smile. "Just pinch yourself. If you remain, you are awake. But if your vision blurs, you will soon return to yourself."

Dean gives it a try, and sure enough, his vision blurs, and it feels like he's floating. Cas fades from his sight, and he looks almost sad. He gives the man a little wave before he is replaced by black.

* * *

When Dean wakes, he has another killer headache. He sits up, but recognizes his surroundings immediately. He's back in the bookshop, but Cas is nowhere to be seen. "Cas?" He whispers. His throat feels terribly hoarse, and luckily he finds a glass of water on the table. He sniffs it experimentally before deeming it good enough to risk. 

His thirst slaked for the moment, Dean inspects the rest of the room. It looks the same as in the dream, if a little dustier. The blinds are closed shut against the sunlight, which still manages to peek through. 

The coffee table where the glass of water sat also has some pills in a bowl and a sticky note.

"Sorry to dash, have to open up the shop, remember? Come back and help out if you can. Take an ibuprofen and chug water, you'll be fine, princess. - Gabe"

Dean smirks at the scribbled note, but his face falls when he remembers the dream. It had felt so real. Was Castiel real? All this talk of magic and other worlds was confusing the hell out of him, but he'd gotten some answers at least. Even if they had led to more questions.

Sighing, he grabs his jacket - not his father's jacket, but his own - and opens the door to leave. Standing in the doorway, he gives the shop one last look before heading out. He has work, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished editing my previous chapters for grammar and spelling mistakes. From now on I'll work harder to catch typos and such *before* I publish the chapter :D


	9. Sam Is Just A Little Concerned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam doesn't know what's been going on with his brother. But he knows it's time for a much-overdue talk with his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying out a chapter from Sam's point of view!

Sam hums to himself as he unlocks the door to his apartment, nudging the door open with his hip. This week's groceries weigh down heavily on his arms, and he sets them down on the side table with a grunt. Sam doesn't spot Dean in the living room or the kitchen, so he doesn't bother with a greeting. He shucks off his jacket and closes the door before grabbing the groceries once again and heading to the kitchen.

He's halfway through putting away the cold items in the fridge when he hears a noise from Dean's room. Like the loud thump of something heavy falling on the floor.

Which is, of course, followed by a loud, "Son of a bitch!"

Sam nearly trips in his haste to get down the hall. But when he reaches Dean's bedroom, the door is locked. "Hey, you alright, Dean? Did you hurt yourself?" Sam knows Dean is probably alright, but, hey, he worries about his brother. Probably more than he should, as he's the younger of the pair.

"Mm-fine, Sammy! Don't worry your pretty little head about me," Dean answers, still not opening the door.

"Hey, come out, I got that ice cream you like. You better eat it before it melts!"  _And I want to interrogate you about what the hell has been going on with you,_ Sam doesn't say.

He taps his foot in impatience while he waits for Dean. He hears the springs of Dean's bed, so he assumes Dean had fallen out of bed while napping, hence the loud noise. He's done it before, so Sam can't even mess with him about it. After the first time, he offered to put guard-rails on the bed. Dean had just shot back a jab about how often Jess was over, which ended that conversation. But that was before they'd gotten together.

He's lost in thought by the time Dean cracks open the door. Dean hops on one foot as he slides on his jeans, and nearly falls down before he grabs the door frame. Dean has terrible balance, which stems from the same problem that limits his hearing. Dean wouldn't admit it in a million years, but he's constantly falling down and running into things. Sam always laughs when Dean does something like that, but deep down he's worried. 

Dean makes to close the door quickly behind him, as if he's hiding something. Sam gives him a funny look, but manages to catch a glance into his room.

There are bottles and glasses all over the floor and the top of his dresser. The bottles are the usual kind Dean uses to drink himself into a stupor, but on the shelf beside his whiskey, Sam spots a number of colorful - vials? - and quite a few prescription bottles.

Sam immediately jams his hand in front of the door Dean's trying to shut, and almost catches his hand. He overpowers Dean and swings the door wide open. He practically runs into the room, rushing to the shelf where the mystery bottles peak out. Dean shouts for him to "look out!" but he trips on an empty beer bottle that was laying on the floor, hitting the ground hard.

Dean helps Sam up from the floor, looking sheepish. "Sorry, Sam. I haven't cleaned up in here lately."

"No shit, Dean! What's going on with you?" Sam yells, then quiets down. "You quit Starbucks and Bobby's in one day and don't tell me why, and start hanging out at a job you won't tell me anything about! It's been two weeks, Dean. I think it's time you owe me an explanation." This isn't how Sam meant to start this conversation, but he's on a roll. "What's with all the beer bottles and the pills? Are you doing hard drugs, Dean? And what the hell are these?" Sam picks up one of the colorful bottles and gestures with it.

Dean quickly grabs the bottle from Sam's grasp, checking to make sure the cap is on tight. Happy that nothing has spilled, he carefully replaces the bottle on the dresser. Finally he sighs and sits down on his bed. 

Sam sits down next to him, looking at him expectantly.

Thoughts seem to race in Dean's head, and he takes a moment to collect them. "Um, I met a guy," Dean starts.

"A guy," Sam repeats.  _This guy better not be trouble, or I'll make trouble for him,_ a protective part of Sam thinks.

"Yeah, um, a guy. I met him through Gabe, and he gave me... a job. Yeah, his name is Castiel, and he needed an... a manager. To run his shop. And it pays like, three times as much as I would get at Starbucks and Bobby's together. So I took it. I'm still working at Gabe's shop, since I don't know if the manager gig will pan out, so I have an out if I need one." Dean gives Sam a look like,  _I got this, stop worrying._ Sam will stop worrying once he knows what the hell is going on. "I didn't tell you, because, like I said, I don't know if this'll pan out. Bobby knows where I work, just in case. It's in a pretty sketchy part of town, so..." Dean trails off.

"Okay, you got a new job, you didn't want to get me excited if it was nothing. I get that. But it's been two weeks, Dean. I think you can at least tell me what you  _do._ And how that relates to colorful bottles and glasses in your room." Sam gestures vaguely at the array of glass.

"Oh, um..." Dean starts, making an odd face. "Don't judge, Sam, but, um, well..."

"Just spit it out, Dean."

"He's a potion maker."

A pause.

When Dean fails to elaborate, Sam repeats, "a potion maker?"

"Yeah."

"Okay... what does he make? Does he turn people into newts?" Sam asks, only half-joking.

"No, it's mostly healing potions, like for aches and pains. Our cramp-reducer is our most popular elixirs," Dean explains seriously.

Sam just nods his head absently. "So there's no fake magic or funny business involved?" He knows that Dean can recognize a sketchy situation when he sees one, but he's worried Dean has ignored the warning signs because of the better pay. He has made poor decisions to make enough money to support the two of them before.

"No, no, nothing sketchy at all, Sammy. It's all herbs and plants and shit. There's no real drugs in them or anything. It's mostly the placebo effect, really." Dean quickly explains. "The pills I got are for sleep, Gabe recommended I try them since I've had trouble sleeping lately. This blue guy here," Dean leans over to pick up one of the vials, "is also for sleep. It didn't do anything for me, but I haven't brought it back to the shop yet."

Sam gives Dean a once over. He can't tell if Dean is actually telling the god-honest truth, or if Dean is just that good at bullshitting. Eventually he just sighs loudly, giving Dean a small smile. "I just miss you, is all. You're hardly ever home, Charlie said she hasn't heard from you in, well, two weeks. It's like you're in your own little world, Dean."

Another sheepish look passes over Dean's face. "I'm sorry Sammy. I just got so wrapped up in this new job, I wanted to do good so I can keep it. At this rate, we'll have enough for you to go to Stanford, or wherever you want to go, a year early. I did the math. And then I can..." Dean stops, looking down at his hands.

"Dean. You're my brother, and I want what's best for you. I know you want to take care of me, especially since Dad's been gone, but you need to look after yourself, too, man. Go out, have fun, LARP with Charlie. There's a game this weekend at the park," Sam entices Dean, before giving up and poking him in his side, where Sam knows he's ticklish. This leads to a full out tickle war, followed by a wrestling match in the living room. The ice cream is completely liquified by the time Sam calls Uncle and they lie on the carpet, completely out of breath.

Jess walks in at this moment, having let herself in.  _Oops, I forgot to lock the door,_ Sam thinks, laughing as Jess falls down on top of him. He leans up to kiss her, but Dean throws a pillow at him, knowing full-well that he's started a pillow fight. 

That night after dinner (Dean's burgers and Jess' homefries), they all sit on the couch watching stupid tv shows. Dean tells Jess about his new job, but Sam doesn't gain any new details. He still doesn't believe Dean's cover, as he's calling it now, but he'll keep an eye on him, and ask Charlie to interrogate him. Hey, he can't help but worry. Dean's his brother, after all.


	10. The World of the Supernatural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's gotten pretty good at dreamwalking, but is he good enough to become Cas' apprentice?

Dean feels bad about lying to Sam. He knows the kid worries after him, but Sam doesn't have time for that, if he's going to graduate as valedictorian and achieve great things.

But still, Dean can't help but feel a hitch in his chest when he leaves Sam and Jess to go to bed. He wishes he could tell them about his real job, about all the amazing things he's seen and done.

About real magic.

After the first time Gabe kidnapped him and took him to the bookshop, Dean wasn't sure what to do. He could turn tail and run like he knew he should. Or he could do some more investigating. He hadn't truly believed what was happening was anything more than a delusion, but something tickled at the back of his mind.

_What if it's real?_

Dean sits on the edge of his bed. In the past two weeks he's seen enough things to know for certain (or as certain as he'll get) that this  _thing_ is real.

Gabe is a trickster, who deals out revenge and karma to all who try and cross him, but is really sweet and gentle with those who are kind and good people.

The cafe is in fact a front, but not for anything sinister. Gabe gives out specially made drinks to his customers; Dean still doesn't understand how they find the place. 

And when business quiets down in the afternoon, Dean walk the two blocks to Castiel Novak's bookshop. But does he walk outside like a normal person? No, Dean takes a secret tunnel, like a damn vampire.

He usually takes his elixir at Gabe's before he leaves, so he's tired by the time he's made it through the creepy-ass tunnel. But sometimes he waits, and explores the small shop while he waits for the heaviness to settle in his limbs. Sometimes the shop is actually open, and he's seen several random individuals running the register. They always pack up and leave through the back when he arrives, so all he has to do is flip the sign to "closed" and shut the blinds. There are hardly ever any customers, since they apparently all do delivery now. He hasn't seen Kiki on her broom, but he wouldn't be surprised if they had a flying delivery boy.

Dean then lies down on the couch and waits for sleep to take him.

Take him to Castiel.

As Dean sits on his bed in his own room, he imagines he can hear Sam and Jess joking around on the couch, poking fun at each other's TV preferences. He's always liked Jess. She's good for Sam (too good for him, really) and he hopes it works out for them in the long run. She has big goals of her own, so she doesn't get in the way of Sam studying and is actually nerdier than he is. Which is saying something.

Dean chuckles to himself, biting his lower lip.

This afternoon was his first time seeing Cas from home. Gabe had never let him take any elixir home before, but for whatever reason, today he'd clapped his hand on Dean's back, congratulating him on a hard day's work, and sent him home early with a box full of bottles. If Gabe's _go away_ look and shooing hands weren't enough to get him to leave, the flirty woman out front sure was. Dean scooted out of there in a heartbeat.

He'd thought about taking the mystery box to the bookshop, but decided against it. He would have to talk to Gabe soon if this continues; that couch was ruining his back.

It was surreal, the whole thing was. Spouting those lies to Sam hadn't helped him internalize his new way of life. But as he sits on his bed, looking at the other vials, he remembers that afternoon.

* * *

"Hello, Dean." Castiel always greeted him the same way, every time.

"Heya, Cas," Dean replied. He felt strangely relaxed in a way he hadn't before. Maybe it was because of the memory foam mattress he'd splurged on.

"How are you, Dean?"

"I'm awesome. How about you, Cas? Holding down the fort?" Dean winked. He liked flirting with Cas. It flustered him.

Cas gave him the funny, bird-like head tilt he always gave Dean when he didn't understand him. "I am well. Are you ready to begin today's session? I have something special planned." Cas got up and grabbed a bottle.

The past two weeks had been a whirlwind of worlds, different vials and bottles every time. They seemed to correspond to the worlds they unlocked; a green elixir brought them to a dark forest with talking animals. A deep blue liquid brought them to a small island in the middle of an infinite ocean. A glittering yellow bottle that looked like it contained lightning carried them to the middle of a thunderstorm, powerful winds gusting around them.

And yet he was always safe.

Dean trusted Cas, even if he was still wary of him. The whole shebang was strange, but he was getting used to going with the flow. And today was no different.

"Sure thing, Cas. Where to today?"

Cas surprised him by returning with and pouring out the same liquid he had used on Dean's first trip. It was the ambrosia-like liquid that transported them to what Cas referred to as "The World of the Supernatural." Dean just called it "Supernatural" in his head, but they hadn't returned since their first visit.

"It's been too long since I visited this world. I must tend to it, and you are already here, so you may accompany me." Cas handed Dean a glass, downing the liquid quickly.

If Dean had to describe Cas, he'd call him a weird, dorky little guy. He said strange things and did stranger. But he didn't find his behaviors off-putting. In fact, he found them refreshing. He never knew was Cas would do next.

And apparently the agenda today called for them to return to the world where Cas hung out with his namesake. He's not sure how he feels about Cas hanging out with  _fake_ him when he isn't around.

Cas was already gone, leaning back in his chair in a not-so-dignified way, so he downed his own cup and joined him. 

He was surprised to find himself back in the Impala, on the same road they were on two weeks ago. It was like the world was paused while he went about his business, and was only now returning to normal.

A honk from behind him reminded him to look at the road and, well, hold onto the damn steering wheel.

Hands at 10 and 2, he turned to look for Cas. He wasn't not in the passenger seat or in the back. He was about to pull over to wait for him when he heard a  _flap-flap_ of wings.

Cas suddenly appeared out of thin air with a "hello, Dean."

"Hello to you, too! You need to wear a bell, man. Or at least warn a guy next time!" Dean heaved a breath, steadying his rapid heartbeat.

"My apologies. I had to check on this world, I thought I had enough time before you would appear. You certainly were taking a while," Cas said, but he smiled.

He'd been doing that more, lately. Smiling, not being snarky.

"Well, you left without warning, I didn't have a chance to get settled in your bookshop yet." Dean rolled his eyes at how ridiculous he sounded, even after two weeks.

"Why-oh, of course. Are you are home, Dean? I mean, your body..." Cas looked as unsure of the terminology as Dean was.

"Yeah, Gabe told me to leave early. He had... an appointment." Dean coughed, but Cas just nodded knowingly. "So, why this place again? Isn't this the one with monsters?" Dean knew exactly where they were. It wasn't like he'd spent every waking moment thinking about a world in which Sam was dead because of the apocalypse. Just most waking moments. And several nightmares.

"I visit this world semi-regularly to see how the story progresses. It was originally a friend's world, but he gifted it to me before..." Cas looked out the window, but not before Dean could catch the sad look on his face. "It's not of import. I care for this world. I only entered it accidentally. When you - ahem, when  _Dean_ was sent to hell, I couldn't just stand by and watch. I had to act." Cas set his face in a small frown. "Gabriel says I'm crazy for interfering."

"No, it's... nice. You did good, Cas." Dean tried to comfort the man who was quickly becoming his friend. The more-than-platonic feelings had not receded since he felt the first pang of love two weeks ago, but he didn't know if it was just the ghost of the feelings of this world's Dean, or something different. He didn't know how Cas felt about this other Dean, but if it was also more crush-like than friend-like, they were going to have a problem.

Not that Cas is terrible looking or anything. In fact, Dean almost has a crush on the man all by himself. He can't help it, the man is adorable in his sweaters and rumpled hair, and badass in his trenchcoat and intimidating wings. The man is epic in either world.

Shaking his head, Dean returned from his thoughts. "Either way, you're too ingrained in this world to leave at this point. It's stuck with you. Not that I think this Dean minds." Dean winked at Cas, but the other man just slouched in his seat.

"I'm afraid I've done more harm than good here, Dean. Everytime I try to fix things, they just blow up in my face." Cas muttered, pouting like a child.

"Hey, now, that's not true! This world would be an apocalyptic mess without you! Sure, you lost a few battles here and there, but you won the war! Not to mention all the small good things you do for this world. I can't tell if it's micromanaging or just fondness for the lives here, but you care, Cas. And that counts for something." Dean didn't know where this pep talk is coming from, but it seemed to help Cas, who was sitting up straighter and looking more resolute.

"Thank you, Dean. You are very kind." He pulled out his phone, which was beeping _recalculating... recalculting... make a U-turn_. "We missed our exit."

"Yes, I can see that," Dean said as he made the maneuver. He didn't mention that he can hear better in this world, and has better balance. It was almost like he'd gone back in time, back before... "Where is this damn bunker anyway?"

They drive the rest of the way to the bunker mostly in silence, except for occasional directions from Cas' phone. Dean remembered the directions, thanks to this world's version of him, but it was too painful to access. It had too many emotions, and it was easier to follow the robotic sounding voice until they were driving down a familiar gravel road.

He parked, and they entered the bunker together. It was obvious that it had been unoccupied for some time; there were no groceries in the fridge, and Cas had to manually reboot one of the generators.

Dean absent-mindedly ran his finger through the dust on the table, before turning back to Cas. "So, man, what's the plan? Is there any big threat looming on the horizon?" He joked, but Cas looked at him seriously.

"Yes, I am afraid that Lucifer has been freed from his cage," Cas said, typing on his phone. 

"Really? That dick again?"

"No, Dean, I was joking." Cas didn't look like he was joking.

"O-okay, what to do we do? Can we kill him? That hasn't really worked in the past." Dean was already thinking over the puzzle of killing the devil in his mind, coming up empty, but Cas waved him off.

"I have a plan. Follow me." Cas walked down the hallway of the bunker, past a multitude of door, some Dean remembered entering and others he'd never noticed were there. Finally, Cas stopped at a door. "What lies behind this door is the key to our success."

 _Dramatic reveal much, Cas?_ Dean didn't ask. He did raise his eyebrows, concealing just how intrigued he is.

Cas opened the door to find -

"A broom closet, really?" Dean laughed.  _This is the key to our success?_

Cas just furrowed his eyebrows, glancing around, ducking his head into the closet like it were a portal to another realm, not a dusty space full of old brooms and mystery cleaning liquids. "I don't understand - Gabe said this would work..."

"Cassie, my man, you look like you're in a spot of trouble!" Suddenly Gabe popped in behind Dean, causing Dean to jump almost a full foot in the air in surprise.

"Dude, you're worse than Cas! Us mere mortals need some warning!" Dean huffed, catching his breath.

Gabe just smirked, staying strong under Cas' glare that would have wilted any other man. But Gabe just laughed, closing the door, and reopening it.

This time, the closet was gone, and a larger storage room was in it's place.

"Oh, so it's like the Room of Requirement?" Dean asked.  _Good thing Sam isn't here, he'd tease me to hell about that reference._

Cas tilted his head slightly in confusion, but Gabe nodded. "Exactly. Seems that our dear Cassie wasn't looking for what I told him, instead looking for a place to make out with his boyfriend." Gabe winked overdramatically, stepping into the room before Dean or Cas could protest.

They spent the rest of their time in the room, planning a complication military-level mission that Dean felt inadequate to participate in. Instead, Dean sat back and watched Cas and Gabe bicker about angels, demons, and picking sides in an otherworldly war. For all Gabe had complained to Dean in the past two weeks about Cas always hanging out in this world, Gabe seemed pretty into it.

Eventually, the two agreed on a plan, and just as suddenly as he'd appeared, Gabe snapped his fingers and was gone. Cas sighed, and when he turned to Dean, he looked tired.

"Hey man, I know you had a big plan for me today, but how about you get some rest? This world isn't real, buddy, and it's problems don't have to affect you like this." Dean attempted to comfort Cas, who shrugged him off.

"I agree. I think it's time to leave." And for the first time in weeks, Cas left him alone, snapping his fingers and disappearing right before his eyes.

 _Rude,_ Dean thought. He rolled his eyes, and decided not to stick around in the world where demons and angels were at war.  _Or something._

Dean pinched himself, waking up through the layers of dreams. And immediately hit the floor.

* * *

Back in his own bed, Dean sighs. The door is locked, he's tired, and Cas had said it was okay. So why was he still not comfortable dreamwalking by himself? He knows it's a big step, but he feels ready.

Maybe he's just not ready for the idea of this all being real. The magic or the worlds or Cas -

 _Woah, there, let's focus on one crisis at a time._ Dean takes a few deep breaths before setting his teeth, pouring out one of the vials. The magic vials never emptied, so it didn't matter how much he used. The one he'd chosen smelled like honey and flowers, a strong but not terrible odor. It doesn't taste like much on the way down, but soon Dean is lying back on the bed, dreaming of a field of clover and wildflowers, a sunny day in the countryside. He can't tell what country he's supposed to be in, or what time period. No people interupt him where he lies back. When he turns, he sees he's lying on a picnic blanket.

 _Hmm, this picnic isn't complete without some food_ , Dean thinks, and in front of his eyes, a basket appears.

"Ha!" Dean exclaims aloud, though nobody is around to hear. He opens the basket, finding an entire pie inside, along with a fork. "Yes! This is awesome."

But when Dean tries to take a bite of the pie, he find he can't cut into the desert with his fork.  _Ah, right, gotta set the parameters._ Dean closes his eyes in concentration, imagining a real pie, one that allows forks to cut through to reveal the inside. And sure enough, when Dean opens his eyes, he finds the fork slides easily into the treat. He helps himself to a slice straight from the container, and leans back against the blanket.

It's the calmest Dean's felt in... well, ever. He has no worries for money, since Cas is, for some reason, paying him a pretty penny, and his wages at the bakery are no small thing. Sam is doing well in school and has an amazing girlfriend, Bobby and Charlie and all his other friends are doing well, and Dean himself feels... not happy, exactly. But content. 

Maybe he'll start taking Sam's advice, to take care of himself better. Almost against his will, Dean can't help but tense up at the thought of his little brother, of his responsibility. Just because things are good now, doesn't mean they'll stay that way. The calm before the storm and all that. And, looking back over his life, Dean can remember all the times shit hit the fan, the other shoe dropped, his life turned sideways again and again, until Dean learned to live a life unbalanced. He rarely bothered to relax or enjoy the calm or happy moments, always preparing for the worst.

But in this dream world, with not a cloud in the sky and a cool breeze on his skin, Dean can't help but sigh happily. He closes his eyes and falls asleep, his body settling back into reality, but his mind still lying in the windy meadow.


	11. The Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas isn't paranoid. He's not. But you don't live for thousands of years without becoming a little terrified of the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for so long between posts! As a special present for anyone who's still reading at this point, I will reveal more than one secret! Ooooh!

Cas can feel it.

The Darkness.

Dean has just left. He's happy for him, glad that these past two weeks have been as informative and productive as possible. It might end up being necessary.

Gabe says he's paranoid. It's not the first time, but it's not the first time he's complained about a dark force haunting him. It's not like he's seen her, or has any proof.

But he's seen the aftermath.

And he's heard the stories.

Visiting the Supernatural world always makes him melancholy for old days, and Gabe complains it makes him even more paranoid than usual. But he can't help but remember Chuck.

"Cas. Cas, man, come back to me!" Gabe snaps his fingers in front of his face. Right, Gabe is still here.

"I miss Chuck," he says in way of reply.

Gabe sighs. "Dude, I know he was, like, your father figure, or whatever, but, it's been years." Gabe rubs his hand over his face in an uncharacteristic show of frustration. He pours some scotch, which Cas doesn't take.

"In the scale of my lifetime, it feels like he only went missing yesterday. Gabe, I swear she's getting closer every day." Cas' face betrays his fear.

Gabe throws back his glass, chugging the alcohol as if it'll do anything for him. He prepares himself for a lecture. "Cas. You say this every time you go to that damn world. And you don't even know what happened to Chuck. Just because nobody's heard of him, doesn't mean he's dead."

"Yeah, he could be worse than dead."

Gabe had heard the stories too, and not all from Cas.

Chuck was a powerful witch, from a time even Cas couldn't remember. He is said to be the first witch, or the first all powerful being, or the first one to dream walk; it depended on who you ask.

They say he once commanded an army of "Angels." Cas remembers that. He was one of them, in his youth. He learned everything from Chuck. And he was Chuck's favorite.

Gabe heard from Rowena, his favorite customer, that Chuck had a sister. Amara. But she was more commonly known simply as "the Darkness." Gabe calls it some Harry Potter-Voldemort bullcrap, the whole "fear of the name increases the fear of the thing itself," but Amara is older than J.K. Rowling. Older than dirt.

Gabe never met Chuck, but Cas speaks of him with such rapture that he feels like he knows the man. He feels... connected somehow.

But Chuck went missing a long time ago. The last time he resurfaced, he gave Cas a gift. Well, he sent his man Balthazar with the gift. The world of the Supernatural.

Balthazar told Cas that he was an apprentice of Chuck's. The ancient witch had set up a series of contingencies in case of his death or sudden disappearance, and one of these was to send a student to Cas. Gabe was almost done with his own apprenticeship under Cas, so Balthazar was happy to be Cas' new apprentice, but after a few years, the younger witch grew restless (and tired of flirting with a stony Castiel), and left to find his fortune elsewhere. 

He left the precious elixir, the one containing the world of monsters. At the time he left, Dean and Sam weren't even born, but under Cas' careful watch, their destiny's unfolded.

Chuck was a genius like that. Not only was he a Dreamwalker and skilled witch (not to mention almost immortal), he was partly physic, though not a very good one. If anything, it annoyed the hell out of him, and he'd complained to Cas on multiple occasions of migraines and visions. So he did what any good witch did - he cut it out. Placed it in a new world, let it play itself out without him.

But he was never the same.

This was after Cas left Chuck's tutelage to seek his own destiny. Too much infighting in the Angels pushed him away; he prefered solitude in any case. He often thought on Chuck fondly, but he never heard or saw Chuck again. Not for many thousands of years.

Gabe had balked to learn about the age of his mentor, but Cas scoffed.  _He scoffed_. Gabe had yet to hear a comparable sound since. Cas informed him that he lived for many more thousands of years under Chuck's tutelage, learning his ways, becoming a master himself. Gabe couldn't imagine. His own 100 years seemed insignificant in comparison.

Cas sighs, bringing Gabe back from his thoughts. Gabe coughs, but rolls his eyes at the way Cas furrows his brow. 

"Okay, Cas. I know you're worried. But this will pass, it always does, and it always will. The Darkness is a bedtime story, not a threat."

"But Chuck's visions have been coming true. With the Winchester boys, Crowley, Chuck even foretold of Rowena. He didn't get much right, Crowley rules over Starbucks, not hell, but so much has come true. I've visited the near future in that world. The next threat to face the boys... is Amara."

"And you think that equals a similar threat in our world, the  _real_ world? If we're going by Chuck's visions, then she'll end up being a harmless little girl. Or a cat." Gabe laughs, but Cas is still serious.

"I must return to the world. Perhaps I can glean some information."

"Oh, shut up. I know you just want to hang out with your hunter boyfriend." Gabe winks outrageously. Cas doesn't deny it, but he never has. 

Cas' infatuation with the eldest Winchester brother only increased when he met the real man. He was different from the simulation he ran in his ample free time. The real Dean felt, well,  _real_ , more solid. Which didn't help Cas get over his crush. Dean would often flirt with him in both worlds, but he saw not harm in enjoying a good joke every so often. As long as he didn't expect anything more. He learned his lesson from Balthazar.

Gabe rolls his eyes one more time for good measure, before excusing himself and snapping his fingers.

Once his companion is gone, Cas lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He loves Gabe, he does, but the man's sudden appearances and disappearances always shakes him. It reminds him of how little control he had. He's constantly at the whims of Gabe, and now Dean, who are the only ones who know how to reach him.

Without them, he would be cut off, adrift from the world, forever.

He misses the days of hourly visitors to pass the time. Customers looking for advice and distraction, friends from far away who visited at their leisure, and pupils, enough to fill a school room, all wanting to learn his trade. But those days were long over.

And he's left alone in a dusty bookshop, waiting for Dean to return and listening to the wind howl ominously.

Not wanting to stick around any longer, Cas throws back the golden elixir and closes his eyes. He tells himself that he's visiting purely for research purposes only, but in his heart, he knows what he wants.

Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment and let me know what you think so far! I need as much encouragement as I can get, honestly.


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